Following You
by Joker is Poker with a J
Summary: Sequel to Say When. "If we open a quarrel between past and present, we shall find that we have lost the future." Spot Conlon is moving on from the betrayal that lead him to the Snow's doorstep. Unfortunately, the more he tries to control his plans for the future, the faster things start to crumble around him and now his past has caught up with him...
1. Be my only

**Following You**

_Watch your hands move along my face_

_They trace all the lines I've lived._

_It isn't hard to love your scars 'cause _

_That's everywhere you've been._

_-_Be My Only by FM Radio

Naomi curled up against Spot's side while taking care not to spill her mug of tea or his. Silently she reveled in his warmth as he wrapped his free arm around her shoulders and murmured his thanks. She felt incredibly content as they cuddled there on the couch, Bea and her mother having retired to bed not too long ago. November had passed by in a blur of happiness after their reconciliation and she laid her head on his shoulder as she watched the snow that was common of December to fall softly outside the window.

Mortimer was snoozing peacefully in a birdcage Spot had found in an alley behind an upper class house in Brooklyn Heights. The only change she had insisted on was to remove the door so that Morty could come and go, although he seemed to like the cage very much.

Spot ran his hand through her hair lightly, "Sometimes, I can't believe I'm here." He told her, his voice barely above a whisper.

"What do you mean?" She asked, taking a sip of her tea. It was still a little hot so she rested it on her knee and glanced up at his face.

He shrugged slightly and turned to meet her gaze with those blue eyes that had at one time looked at her with bitterness, anger, and betrayal. Except now they were glowing with warmth and love, "I don't know how ta explain it." He said softly and she was struck by just how much he'd changed. Or perhaps he hadn't changed but had hidden this side of himself as a sort of defense mechanism to weed out the people who didn't care. Either way, she was grateful he'd chosen her to share this side with.

"Hmm, try?" Without thinking, she fingered the key around her neck. He hadn't told her it was his when he'd left her that second time but she had unwittingly kept it in a small drawer in the kitchen. It had stayed there for many months, a reminder much like the scar on her cheek that she had been attacked by an enemy of his. But it wasn't until one evening after they had reunited that he had been rummaging through the drawers looking for a wooden spoon to stir the soup that he had found it.

He'd looked at her, his eyes an unfathomable blue, "You kept this?"He had held it up, the twine still threaded through the top but broken into two strands.

She glanced at it and shrugged, "I didn't know what it went to."

"My house." Was his reply before he stepped closer to her and tied it around her neck. There were now three knots in the twine from the three different owners but he had seemed pleased that she hadn't taken it off since then.

Spot took his arm from around her to run through his light brown hair and subsequently returning her to the present as he told her frustratedly, "Naomi, you know I'm no good at this." He paused and met her eyes once more, the sudden desire lighting as fast as kerosene, "Can I kiss ya?"

"Do you even need to ask anymore?" She returned and before she could take another breath he pressed his lips against hers. Circling her arms around his neck, she melted against him as he gently coaxed her mouth open so he could slip his tongue in. He may not have been good at talking about his feelings, but he was a damn good kisser. She eagerly kissed him back, her head going light as she let these wonderful feelings fill her to the tips of her fingers and toes.

This went on for quite a few minutes before he pulled back slightly and rested his forehead against hers, "I can't believe Ise here, with you. That I have a family, that I trust ya all and that I'm _happy_." It was said in a rush, as if he only had the feelings in word form for a few seconds before he could no longer say it aloud.

He opened his eyes after uttering those words, the sincerity plain on his face. Spot was no longer the bitter man he'd been when she'd found him and she found he was capable of an amazing amount of love that still baffled her occasionally given his past that she had only ever guessed at. "Tell me about your family?" She asked now, a slight hesitation audible in her voice, "About your mother and why she left you?"

Stiffening slightly at the unexpected question, he glanced away but not before she could see the internal scars that still haunted him. As happy as he was now, he couldn't get over the abandonment of his mother. "Why?" He asked, his voice low, "You, Bea and ya mothah are my family now. What else is there ta say?"

She closed her eyes as he ran a finger along her cheek; he often liked to trace the scar there. Naomi had often seen his eyes run across it, his eyebrows puckering as he stared at the mark as if he blamed himself for it. It rarely bothered her anymore but when she looked at it she didn't see Lighter, or the fact that it had been her own miscalculations that had brought him to her home. No, what she saw was that moment when Spot had looked at her and had told her he was going back to be leader and that he didn't want anybody to care about. Sometimes it still ached when she watched him leave though she knew now that he'd come back.

In return, she reached out and traced her finger across his silvery scar just above his left eyebrow. The only mark left on his face of the betrayal of last April when five of his boys had cornered him in an alley bent on his death so they could gain the elusive title of King of Brooklyn. "Say…that it doesn't bother you anymore. Or say that it does. Say you remember it and you want to share it with me."

"I don't want your pity." He didn't snap it like he would have six months ago, but it wasn't said softly.

She raised her hands defensively, "No pity from me, buster."

Her joking seemed to deflate him a bit, but he sent her a cursory glance, "Don't think I'm going ta just cry on ya shouldah. I'll lay ya out the facts." He waited for her nod before he continued, "I was born in da Bronx, and my parents' house was in Riverdale.

"My fathah, Richard Conlon, died before I was born. He and my mothah were married about five years before she got pregnant and about two years in he began to beat her 'cause she hadn't conceived him an heir." He raised an eyebrow at her gasp, "They married each othah for money, not love, sweetheart. Anyway, he tripped down some stairs before I was born and snapped his neck on the way down. When I was born, I was everything he had wanted and she hated me foah that. It didn't help I had his blue eyes." His lips pressed together at the thought of sharing even eye color a man he'd never known, "She cast me down to the servants, told othah's I had been a stillborn and had a fake funeral. Not too long after that she remarried his best friend, Harry Turner, and got pregnant.

"From my first day of life I was raised by the kind maids and cook in the kitchen of the home I should have been safe in. She didn't even name me. I was called Spot by the cook because of a birthmark on my back that's a perfect circle. When I was four, my mother got pregnant with her second child and when I turned five, she ordered the maids to leave me on the streets."

Naomi sat quietly, listening through the whole story and increasingly getting angrier by the minute. How dare that _bitch_ just abandon her child like that! Yes, she understood hating the baby's father for abusing her, but the child was also part of her and that would have mattered to her. Honestly, Naomi was surprised Spot had turned out decent at all given the two whose genetic make-up he shared. "How'd you find this all out?" She asked, meeting his gaze to assure him she didn't pity him. He'd resent her pity anyway.

"The one maid wrote it all in a letter and tucked it in my pocket. I couldn't read then, but after I was taken in at the Brooklyn LH, I learned and went back one day to read it so I understood everything." He wrapped his arm around her once again, "I'm tired so can we drop it, now?"

Moving closer, she wrapped her own arms around his middle and rested her head on his chest. "Yes, though if I meet this woman on the streets I might take a swing at her."

He chuckled, "I'd like ta see ya punch somebody." It was quiet for a moment and then he sighed, "It's gettin' late, love. I'll be ovah tomorrow after my session with Ruckus."

He moved to stand but she tightened her arms around him and groaned, "You're just using that as an excuse to miss church with us, aren't you?" Saturday nights were the only nights he stayed late and more often than not the only time alone they seemed to get. A few Sundays he'd come over first thing in the morning and subsequently went to church with them. Spot Conlon and church hadn't mixed, though so he'd taken to using his Sunday mornings to mentor Ruckus before making his way over in the afternoon to spend the rest of the day with the Snow's.

Spot gave her that smirk that neither confirmed nor denied what she said so she just laughed and told him, "Why don't you bring Ruckus over after his training and he can stay for dinner?"

"I think we can make a lil' time for food." He told her, his face serious though she could see the laughter behind his eyes.

Rolling her eyes, she let him get up before following him to the door, "I'm sure you can." She teased right as he pulled her into his arms for a goodnight kiss before heading back out into the snow in the direction of Brooklyn.

**A/N: A little short, but I wanted to show Naomi's feelings and otherwise get the ball rolling for future chapters. I know I said I was going to wait to write this but Naomi and Spot would not leave me alone and truthfully, their story did not seem entirely over (as you will see teehee). Drop me a review and tell me what you think so far?**

**Truly,**

**Joker is Poker with a J~**

**Disclaimer: I only own what you do not recognize. Everything else is the property of their respective owners.**


	2. Survive

**Following You**

_So I ingest everything  
>'Cause I'm in it to win<br>nothing but time on my side  
>Anywhere I choose<br>'Cause I wasn't built to lose  
><em>- Survive by Sick Puppies

The cold light of day streamed through the window above his bed and he blinked his eyes open. He'd gotten in late the night before but the habit of waking with the sun was too hard ingrained and so he found himself rising to get dressed. His thoughts immediately drifted to Naomi, who'd be rising about now to head to church with Bea and Mrs. Snow. This in turn directed his thoughts to his impending meeting with Ruckus.

He tucked in his new slingshot, the one he would have had a lot earlier had he not walked out on Naomi the first time, put his newsboy cap on his head and grabbed his cane where it leaned against the wall. Though he still felt a little off without his key, he knew it was in good hands. Smiling at the thought of where it hung now, he briefly remembered how he got it like it was yesterday. He'd been five, just a few weeks before he'd been left on the streets by the maid, and his younger brother Henry had come down to the kitchens to taunt him with the then shiny key.

"Look what mommy gave me!" He'd exclaimed, his hazel eyes shining triumphantly as he hung it over Spot's head. It hadn't helped that his younger brother had been slightly taller than him at the time. Glaring, Spot turned his face away to show indifference to his brother's taunts.

"What's that foah? Ta unlock ya diapah cuz youse a big baby?" Spot had snapped back, jealous that his mother never gave him anything or even acknowledged him.

Henry had sneered, something he had perfected over the years, and tucked the key in his pocket, "No. It's a key ta get in the house because mommy always wants me to come back. Unlike you, who she never wanted in the first place." They had been young but both had learned early on who Veronica Masters-Turner had loved and who she didn't. Regardless, the dig had stung Spot more than he would ever admit.

He stormed away but had snuck into Henry's room late that night to take the key he'd taunted him with; his revenge for the cutting words of his younger brother. He'd hidden it outside under a stone so when they searched his meager belongings they'd never find it no matter how sure Henry was he'd taken it. When he had found out from eavesdropping on the cook and his mother that they were going to abandon him on the streets he had gone back to the rock and taken his prize with him. At least he'd always have a way back in, not that he was stupid enough to try.

Shaking his head at the memories, he left his room and strode down the hall to the boys bunk room. Sundays he usually allowed them to sleep in as late as they could sleep, but a few were up and getting dressed for the same reason he was; a habit after waking up with the sun six days a week for so many years. Nodding to those that were awake, he walked down to the very last bunk on the left where Ruckus was curled up sleeping.

A small stab of regret ran through him until he shut down the feeling. Maybe it wasn't fair to thrust the position of leadership onto anyone so young, but then he'd been fifteen, too, when Hero had chosen him as his successor. With that thought in mind, he poked Ruckus in the ribs with his cane, "'Ey, Ruckus. Time ta get up."

Ruckus groaned and swatted at the cane, "Leave lone." He murmured, trying to bury himself more into the bed to get away from Spot's incessant cane.

"Up and at 'em, boy."

"Jeez, Spot. It's barely light out." The boy grumbled, finally sitting up enough to glare at the Brooklyn King through bleary grey eyes.

Spot chuckled, "Days a wastin', kid. Get dressed and meet me down stairs in five minutes." He turned from his second, smirking as Ruckus muttered curses under his breath, before adding over his shoulder, "Oh, and don't look too sloppy. We're goin' ta the Snow's afterwards."

That statement was met with another groan and he chuckled again to himself as he headed down the stairs, his eyes straying briefly to the door at the end of the hall where Naomi was any other day of the week. A few boys, Magic in particular, had been pretty miffed that after his speech to them about leaving the nurse of the lodging house alone he'd gone and made her his girl, which was something he'd never extended to any of his flings before her. But, after Wicked and Joker had told the boys about how Naomi had found him, brought him in and healed him she'd become an honorary Brooklyn Newsie and all the boys had since then doted on her. She was, after all, the reason he was back.

He plopped onto the worn couch that sat in the corner of the room and watched as the occupants began to rise. Many of the ones who had risen early were leaving to go about the city, either to catch a little snack from a vendor busy with customers or get into the market crowds when they were busiest to pick a few pockets.

"Spot Conlon." A voice said, before Joker spun around the corner with one of the younger boys' wooden swords, "Prepare to fight!"

As she moved forward she lashed out with her sword and just in time he blocked it with his cane and stood in one smooth move. "That the best ya got?" He taunted.

Blue eyes blazing, she took a step back before she lunged forward again. He parried the blow and smirked at her. Narrowing her eyes, she moved to the right as he turned his cane to follow her. Suddenly, she made a small, owl-like 'whoo!' and Wicked came around the corner to his left and managed to prod him in the ribs with her own sword.

"Aha!" The twins exclaimed, as Spot grabbed at his side and gave a fake groan of agony.

They clashed their swords together and did a victory dance. "We beat!" Joker began to sing.

Wicked added the second verse, "Spot Conlon! We beat!"

"Spot Conlon! Woo!" Joker finished their short song and both turned to look expectantly at Spot.

He raised an eyebrow, "Maybe I shoulda sent the two of ya ta a mental institution instead of lettin' ya stay here."

Wicked scoffed, "If you'd have done that,"

"Then who would make you laugh?" Joker finished, and both raised their eyebrows at the same time.

Before he could make a comment, Ruckus came down the stairs and stopped next to him. He nodded his head at the twins, "Joker. Wicked."

"Ruckus." They greeted in unison.

Ignoring the two, he turned to Spot, "Awright, I'm ready."

Footsteps on the stairs had all four turning to watch as two of the younger boys, General and Peanut came flying down the stairs. "Joker! Gimme back my sword!" Peanut exclaimed, coming right up to the brunette.

She scowled, "No. I won it fair and square, kid."

Peanut glanced at Spot with large, doleful brown eyes, "They said if it was heads they won and if it was tails we lost."

Wicked cackled but was cut off as General, who had not demanded the sword back but had rather went flying straight at her to grab at his sword. Wicked made an 'ah!' in exclamation before tugging back the sword, "Leggo, scamp!"

General pulled with his whole tiny body, "Ya tricked us!"

"Hey, Wicked," Joker began as Peanut began running around her and making grabs for his sword.

"Yeah, Joke?" Her counterpart panted, still having the tug of war battle with the smaller newsie.

"Remember when you were so angry you could kick a child?" Spot and Ruckus watched in amusement at the scene of the two girls fighting with the kids.

"Yeah." Was the clipped reply as Wicked jerked the sword free and lifted it high in the air, trying to keep it out of General's reach.

Joker lifted her own sword up high but unfortunately neither of the twins was very tall and Peanut managed to jump up and knock the sword out of her hands and they both froze and watched it slide across the floor. "Mind bringin' some of that anger back?" Joker asked, before her and Peanut both went running for the sword that lay abandon on the floor.

"Should we do somethin'?" Ruckus asked Spot.

Spot gave Ruckus a serious look, "As ya go through life, there are three choices ya have when it comes ta a confrontation between those ya lead. One, break it up. Two, let them handle the situation themselves."

Ruckus raised an eyebrow, "And the third?"

The Brooklyn leader smirked, "Sit back and enjoy the show." He clapped Ruckus on the back as the twins continued their battle against the two boys.

Twenty minutes later, Spot and Ruckus left the lodging house with the disgruntled, swordless twins.

"You shoulda kicked General." Joker muttered, darkly.

Wicked glowered at the sidewalk, arms folded tightly as she replied, "Then you would have laughed and we'd probably still be without swords."

"Don't you two have somewhere else ta go?" Spot asked, glancing back at the twins as they followed him and Ruckus in the direction of the docks. At this time of year the docks were more often than not deserted, which made them a perfect place for him to talk to Ruckus about his duties and obligations.

Joker glared and sniffed at his question, "Nope. In punishment of not helping us keep our swords,"

"Which we won fair and square from them two little brats," Wicked added.

"We're going to give you an extra dose of our sparkling personalities." Joker finished.

Spot scowled at them, "No, ya won't. Me and Ruckus have stuff ta discuss that you two can't hear."

Wicked made a face, "When you say it like that,"

"It makes us want to stay around longer." Joker completed.

Rolling his eyes, he contemplated swinging his cane at the two, "Beat it." He finally said.

"Fine," Joker snapped.

"We see when we're unwanted." Wicked ended the sentences this time and they looped arms, crossed the street and got lost in the morning crowd.

Ruckus snorted, "No, I think that's a first." He said to Spot in reply to Wicked's departing comment.

Spot smiled, "They come with Brooklyn."

His second's face fell and Spot had to keep from laughing out loud. Ruckus had more than showed his mettle in the last six months. He'd attacked Lighter, had gotten Spot to Manhattan and had even found Spot when he was staying with the Snow's. After all that, he'd volunteered going back to Brooklyn to rally those that were loyal to Spot and even had rounded up the traitors. Though at the time he'd been small and unassuming, the main reason Spot had chosen him to be an undercover spy, over the last couple months he had hit a growth spurt and now he was growing like a bean pole.

All in all, he'd proven to be observant and quite cunning. He liked to let people assume the exact opposite of what he was really like and Spot knew without a doubt there was no one better suited to take his place in Brooklyn. No matter how many newsies were concerned about his decision.

As they stepped onto the docks, their footsteps on the wooden planks were drowned out by the slapping of the East River. They continued to the end where Spot turned and faced Ruckus, "Awright, ta continue where we left off last week…"

The first hour, Spot spent his time telling Ruckus the tricks of the trade of being leader. Once he'd covered everything he wanted to, they warmed up and began sparring. Ruckus had not been the best fighter which is why Lighter had been able to corner him in that alley last April. He was definitely getting better, though, Spot reflected after they'd finished. He wiped the sweat from his forehead; the fighting had gotten his blood pumping so much he'd discarded his jacket, but he picked it up now and slipped it on. "Ready?" He asked, squinting in the afternoon sun as his second caught his breath.

Ruckus turned to look at him, his grey eyes wide, "Do ya…ya think the Snow's will like me?"

Taken aback by the random question, Spot leaned back on his heels and surveyed the boy in front of him. He'd never given it much thought, but now that he did he remembered Ruckus had been a newsie since he was quite small; since he was four or five, in fact. Spot began to see the parallels between them and he almost asked Ruckus about his past but he stopped himself just in time. That was the first rule of being a newsie, you never asked about another's past unless they volunteered it.

"'Course they will." He replied, not use to reassuring others. Ruckus didn't often come off as vulnerable, but with all the time they had been spending together perhaps the boy was trusting in Spot not to think him weak for asking such a question.

Spot hid a smile at the look of relief that had past across the younger boy's face as they began their walk across the Brooklyn Bridge. Ruckus had crept past Spot's barriers and had taken on the role of his little brother; a role that had been filled a long time ago by someone who'd been unwilling. Lucky for Henry, Spot had long since relieved him of any responsibility; especially after their meeting two years ago that had ended in a fight.

"So, Naomi has a sistah and mothah?" Ruckus asked, breaking the silence half way across the bridge.

"Yeah. Mrs. Snow always insists that I call her Lily but I don't and then there's Bea. She's thirteen." Spot smiled as he thought of his girls.

Ruckus nodded and they fell back into an easy silence. Spot noticed Ruckus got more nervous the closer they got but he made no comment. They took the stairs two at a time and stopped in front of the apartment door. Spot straightened his jacket and adjusted his hat before he knocked. He threw a wink at Ruckus as Naomi opened the door and broke into a large grin.

"Hi." She murmured before throwing her arms around his neck and giving him a warm hug. It was still hard for him to believe that he'd found someone he could trust so completely.

"How was ya day?" He asked when she'd pulled back to smile at Ruckus.

"Hello, Ruckus. Come on in." She moved aside to let them through before she answered his question, "It was good, yours?"

Ruckus stood close to Spot, looking uncomfortable for a moment before Mrs. Snow caught sight of them, "Hello, boys." She wiped her hands on the apron tied around her waist and held her hand out to Ruckus, "You must be Ruckus. Spot's told us a lot about you. It's wonderful to meet you."

"Spot!" Bea exclaimed as she came out of the bedroom and flung herself at the Brooklyn leader. He laughed as she about tackled him and returned her hug.

"Bea, I just saw ya yestahday." He told her, exasperated but giving her a wink so she knew he was kidding.

She smiled and pulled away to look at Ruckus, "I'm Bea." She told him shyly, a light blush rising in her cheeks as she held her hand out to his second.

"Ruckus." He said, giving her a smile and shaking her hand gently. Spot nodded his approval and looked at Naomi who was standing off to the side.

Her eyes lingered on the two in front of them before she turned and caught him gazing at her. She gave him a sweet smile and slipped her hand in his, "I bet you're hungry." She murmured quietly to him.

Before he could open his mouth, his stomach gave a loud growl that silenced the apartment. When his belly was done complaining, they all laughed.

**A/N: So, basically a lighthearted filler chapter. Plot's gonna pick up in the next chapter and since I'm a chapter ahead of myself I thought I'd treat you all to this one. Especially because I'm not sure how much I'll be updating the next two weeks or so. Please review?**

**Truly,**

**Joker is Poker with a J~**

**Disclaimer: I only own what you do not recognize. Everything else is the property of their respective owners.**


	3. Rumor Has It

**Following You**

_Just 'cause I said it don't mean I meant it.  
>People say crazy things,<br>Just 'cause I said it, don't mean that I meant it.  
>Just 'cause you heard it…<br>Rumor has it, ooh,_

-Rumor Has It by Adele

"…so, Bea told the girl just where she could shove her parasol. I think you're a bad influence." Naomi chuckled, lightly bumping her shoulder against Spot's before she continued. "Mrs. Levy nearly feinted; she swears to mother she's never taking Bea to Central Park again. The best part of it is the girl didn't get angry at all. She laughed so hard she was in tears, from what Bea told me. Sophie, that's her name, even invited her and Anne over for tea tomorrow at her house."

She paused to peer at Spot, taking in his thoughtful expression as he smiled absentmindedly at her story. Stopping on the sidewalk, she watched as he continued on unaware of her stop until he was about three feet away, "Naomi?" He asked stopping and turning to stare back at her questioningly.

"What's the matter?" She asked, tilting her head to study his expression. Things had been going wonderfully but it was only lately that she noticed he'd grown a little distant.

A gust of cold flurries blew through them and Naomi shuddered at the cold, pulling her coat tighter. Spot's coat was barely adequate, thin and threadbare from use and yet he did not seem fazed. "Come on, Naomi. I shouldn't have ya out on the streets so late." He replied, ignoring her question and moving forward to take her hand.

Stubbornly, she moved her hand from his and stood her ground, "No, Spot. Not until you tell me what's wrong."

Scowling, he met her green eyes and they stared each other down for a second before he ran a hand through his hair and ground out, "I'll tell ya on the way, awright?"

"Promise?"

"I promise." He snapped, looking as irritated as he was after holding a conversation with the twins. She stepped forward and slipped her fingers through his, intertwining them and squeezing lightly as he began their walk towards the Brooklyn Bridge. Pushing away a stab of guilt over putting more pressure on him when it seemed he had a lot on his mind, she turned her face to him expectantly.

"It's..." He began, his blue eyes glancing around before he suddenly jerked her to a halt. "Hang on." He murmured, eyes intent on the sidewalk a head of them and she followed his gaze to see three figures only a block or so ahead. Two of them had their arms loop, and she instantly recognized the twins, but the third person she did not know. He was rather tall with brunette hair and he strode down the street with a familiar, loping gait that made her think he was someone who was use to being in charge; much like her Spot. "That's Ratchet, leader of the Bronx." Spot whispered in her ear, his breath warm on her cheek, "He doesn't often wander inta other territories." He added, as though he were thinking it aloud.

"Why?" She asked curiously but before he could reply, Ratchet and the twins were there in front of them.

"Naomi." Wicked and Joker greeted at the same time, obviously pleased to see her.

"Hello, Wicked. Joker." Naomi replied, giving a brief smile before her eyes turned to the stranger.

Ignoring them, Ratchet spit in his hand, a sign of friendship that disgusted Naomi as he held it out to Spot. Promptly dropping her hand, Spot returned the gesture.

"Spot." The newsie said his voice much deeper than she would have thought.

"Ratchet." Spot greeted, before motioning to her, "This is Naomi, Naomi this here is Ratchet. Leadah of the Bronx."

Ratchet gave a smooth bow to her, "it's nice ta meet the much tawked about Queen of Brooklyn."

Naomi smiled politely, although she was more impressed by Ratchet than she would ever let on. "Nice to meet you, too." She murmured, inclining her head. She tucked her hands in the opposing sleeves of her coat, sorely wishing Spot would take her hand again. Unfortunately, while he could be quite sweet when they were alone, public displays' of affection were not his forte.

"So, I see ya met the twins." Spot said, nodding to the two beside Ratchet.

Wicked grinned, "Oh, yes. We found him just as he crossed the bridge,"

"and brought him directly to you, boss." Joker finished.

Looking briefly amused by the two, Ratchet turned back to Spot, "I _did_ hear ya had some strange loyalists."

"Strange is an undahstatement." Spot spoke before the twins could even open their mouths to make a comment. They turned their blue eyes on him, whom he ignored as he raised an eyebrow at Ratchet and changed the subject to get back to business, "Don't see ya outta the Bronx often, Ratchet." He commented. The last time had been the day after he'd successfully reclaimed Brooklyn and the other leaders had come to pay their respects.

Ratchet's green eyes flickered from Spot to Naomi, "I have important infahmation." He replied the true meaning of that statement clear when Spot answered.

"Wicked, Joker make ya selves scarce." Hearing the note in his voice, the two bid quiet good byes' and went past Spot and Naomi in the direction of the lodging house. When they had disappeared, he added, "You can say anything ta me in front of her."

Naomi hid her smile of pleasure. Often times she listened as Spot told her his reports but never had she been with him when someone had something important to say; it made her feel like his partner and she very much liked the sound of that.

A look of surprised passed briefly across Ratchet's face before he smoothed it away and got down to business, "Toper was in the Bronx about a week ago. He approached me and was askin' me questions. It sounded like he was tryin' ta find out if I would be with Brooklyn or Queens."

Spot's face was an impassive mask, "Exactly how?"

"He asked me if I had ya back when you reclaimed Brooklyn. I told him I did. He then asked if I liked how you was running things over here, I told him Brooklyn's far enough away I don't care. I left it open in case he wanted ta bring me in on his ideas but so far I've heard nothin'.

"Then, just the othah day I had a fox in Queens keeping an eye for me on things when he overheard Toper telling his second that there was a rumor you were trainin' up a weak successor and as soon as you were gone they could expand their territory." Ratchet finished his story and pulled out a cigarette to light.

Naomi glanced at Spot from the corner of her eye and then turned her head when she saw a scowl was pulled across his features. "Ya fox got that far in?" She could tell by that one answer that he was wondering why his birds didn't come to him with this information.

Ratchet nodded but made no move to reply with further explanation.

"Thanks, Ratchet foah comin' ta me with this information." He murmured his thoughts a million miles away from both her and the Bronx leader.

Sighing she nodded to Ratchet, "Thank you. Spot? I need to get home."

"What? Oh yeah, it's getting late." Spot was so preoccupied he nearly started in the wrong direction but stopped when she grabbed his hand and flicked her head in the other, "Right."

She ignored Ratchet, who had yet to leave though they'd both made it clear. He began to walk next to them and when she passed him a quizzical look he shrugged, "Goin' this way anyway, might as well accompany you two."

Spot seemed not to have noticed but she bristled slightly. She wanted time alone with him, to hear from him what he was thinking, what he was planning. Instead, she'd get to watch his face while she walked in an awkward silence with a boy she barely knew. "Uh, so…how'd you become leader of the Bronx?"

Ratchet took a pull from his cigarette, "I killed the previous leadah."

"Oh." She tried to think of something else to say when he laughed.

"I'm just kidding, doll. The leader was leavin' foah Chicago and picked me ta succeed him." He threw her an easy smile and she felt herself relax just a tiny bit. Spot seemed to trust him, was allowing him to walk with them without comment so perhaps he wasn't so bad.

"How long?" She asked, her interest peeking.

He shrugged, "Three years now? Right, Spot?" The green-eyed boy glanced over her head to Spot who shook his head to clear it and looked over at the two.

"Three and a half." He corrected.

Naomi was impressed; she hadn't known they had been leaders that long. It made sense that when they left, their successors would be closely watched for any signs of weakness. She glanced down to see she still had a hold of Spot's hand and she squeezed his hand lightly. He, too, glanced down in surprise and then met her eyes and forced a little smile just for her.

A wave of warmth spread through her at his small smile. Even after everything on his mind he was making an effort to not be so cold with her. Her eyes moved from his blue ones to the quiet Bronx boy to her right, "So, why Bronx? Is it where you grew up?"

Ratchet chuckled, "Nope. I was actually born here in Brooklyn. I went ta the Bronx for a dame and when everything fell apart…I just stayed." He tossed a smile at Spot, who was looking at him with a contemplative expression.

She bumped her shoulder with his, "You think it's crazy he went running after a girl?"

Spot shook his head, his expression closing down to that mask as they got to the middle of the Brooklyn Bridge and Naomi stopped to look over the side. It had gotten darker with every step they took and now the river below was a strip of inky blackness.

"What a terribly long fall." She commented.

Ratchet flicked his cigarette over the side and they watched it fall until it was swallowed up by the dark. For a moment more they continued to stare down in silence before Ratchet turned and began to walk, "Nice ta meet ya, Naomi. Catchya latah, Conlon." He called over his shoulder and without waiting for a reply he disappeared silently into the shadows.

Naomi sighed, "Finally. Now you can tell me what's going on in that head of yours." She murmured.

Spot pulled her forward, their fingers still intertwined, "As soon as I get ya home."

**A/N: Please review?**

**Truly,**

**Joker is Poker with a J~**

**Disclaimer: I only own what you do not recognize. Everything else is the property of their respective owners.**


	4. Who Wants to Live Forever?

**Following You**

_There's no time for us  
>There's no place for us<br>What is this thing that builds our dreams?  
>Yet slips away from us<br>Who wants to live forever?_

- Who Wants to Live Forever by Queen

For the next week, Spot waited impatiently for news. He knew it had to come from somewhere, whether from Ratchet or one of his birds he wasn't sure. For the sake of his boys', he hoped it was his birds. Another word from someone other than one of his own, he was sure it would mean another uprising and if that was the case he didn't know if he'd be lucky enough to survive a second one.

So, he waited. And waited. Before he waited too long, though, patience paid off. A week after the unexpected visit from the Bronx leader, one of his smaller birds came to him as he sat at the end of the docks one afternoon.

Beat was twelve, had barely been with the Brooklyn newsies for a year, but his dark hair, eyes and complexion made it easy for him to stick to the shadows unnoticed. He'd quickly been trained as a spy.

"Mr. Conlon?" Beat spoke softly so it took a bit reiterating before Spot turned to look for who was saying his name.

Blue eyes falling on the young boy, Spot raised an eyebrow, "Whatcha got foah me, aye Beat?"

Beat looked around, his dark, brown eyes shifting about for anyone lurking near to eavesdrop before he opened his mouth, "Word in Queens is dat Ruckus is weak." He murmured, meeting Spot's eyes for a brief moment before looking away nervously. "Topah's newsies think he's plannin' ta take ovah Brooklyn once ya gone. Clash left him in charge, dey say, because he knew Topah was ambitious." That last word was one Beat obviously didn't understand as he tripped over it, but Spot understood. Toper wanted to be known for something; had plans for Brooklyn that didn't include Ruckus and Spot Conlon didn't like the sound of that one bit.

Ruckus was, after all, his choice heir, and Spot would be damned if some kid could walk on into his territory thinking it'd be easy 'cause Ruckus didn't have the fear or the respect that Spot did.

"Thanks, Beat." He told the kid, giving him a clap on the back, "Listen, I want ya ta stay ovah in Queens. Get back ta me if ya hear anythin' else, awright?"

"Yessir." Beat replied and without another word disappeared as silently as he'd come.

He gazed across the East River in the direction of Manhattan, slowly going over the events of the last week and a half. Since Spot and Ruckus had had supper with the Snow's, he'd been noticing his second's inattention, long absences, and otherwise unleaderly-like behavior. Grinding his teeth, he tried not to think about what this could mean. Ruckus was shirking his responsibilities and as he'd yet to gain the respect he needed to thoroughly take the reins as Brooklyn's leader, he was causing undue worry on Spot.

Feeling restless, Spot slipped his cane through his worn red suspenders before striding down the docks and turning in the direction of the lodging house. He'd already expressed his worries to Naomi but now he needed to tell her his birds had finally gotten back to him. She would know what to say, like she always did. After Ratchet's visit, she had listened without comment like she was so good at and when he was finished she'd told him her thoughts on the matter.

"Spot, Ruckus is young. He didn't ask for all this and I know he's your chosen one, so to speak, but he's probably just blowing off some steam before it comes close to the time when he has to become responsible for thirty boys." After her small speech, he relaxed and thought about it like she saw it. It was true; he'd gone through a similar phase before coming into his own. He'd even skipped out on a few of Hero's training sessions.

"You're right." He'd whispered, pulling her into his arms, "How is it I'm lucky enough ta have ya?" His thoughts had turned to that night so long ago when she'd found him in that alley beside her home.

_"Hang in there. I'm going to get help." She whispered._

He'd stubbornly refused help before passing out but Naomi had ignored him. If there was a God like Mrs. Snow believed in and went to church every Sunday to worship, he could thank the guy a million times and still owe him a thousand times over.

"Who says its luck?" She had joked, poking his side lightly. He had jerked in surprise; a laugh escaping before he realized she'd just found his ticklish spot.

He smiled now, remembering how she'd tried unsuccessfully to hold him and tickle him. Quickening his steps, he felt his heart lighten as the lodging house came into view. She was in there, keeping busy as she waited for patients.

She wouldn't be expecting him. Spot grinned and took the stairs two at a time, excited to have a little time alone with her. He knew he'd been a little distant lately, worry about Brooklyn had him on edge and just a little surly. Now that he knew his birds weren't against him, at least one wasn't, he felt a little better, a little more confident that he could handle the situation.

Opening the door to the sick room, he was surprised to find that she _was_ busy. More than busy, the sick room was also a bit crowded. It wasn't a big room by any means, but now it was filled with two boys almost as old as him and even bigger body-wise who were there, watching from in front of the window with anxious faces as Naomi bent over someone on the table.

He recognized the intense atmosphere as one of the boys caught sight of him and moved towards him. His name was Blue and he was around Ruckus's age, but he had never been prominent among Spot's followers. Not because of disloyalty but because he spent most of his time keeping an eye on the younger boys.

Which would explain why he was here.

"What happened?" Spot demanded, lowering his voice so that Naomi wasn't aware he'd entered and be otherwise distracted from what she was doing.

Blue's miserable gaze met his own as he replied, "Why wasn't feeling very good lately," He began, his eyes moving over to the small child on the bed who wasn't more than nine years old, "Ise kept askin' him, 'ya shoah ya don't wanna see Naomi?' He kept tellin' me no, he was just coughin' a little." The older boy clenched his teeth, "I felt his forehead a bit ago and he was burnin' up, Spot. I brought him right ta her but so far…" Blue shrugged as his eyes stared holes into the back of Naomi, who was blocking most of Why.

Without another word to the younger boy, Spot strode towards Naomi and stopped beside her, accidentally startling her in the process, "Oh." She exclaimed, her green eyes wide and wild before recognizing him, "Spot." Her voice was soft, but her shoulders were stiff with anxiety as she turned back to the small boy who was lying on the table, a cool sheen of sweat across his brow.

For a moment he watched her small, slim fingers trace nimbly across the boys forehead, arms and stomach. Her brows were furrowed as she leaned over him before she sighed and pulled back. He waited patiently for her to give the verdict.

"He has a fever…and a cough but that's obvious. I…don't know. Perhaps it's nothing more than a common cold but I can't be sure yet, either way it could turn fatal. He'll need to stay here with me until I know more." Naomi met his eyes and he saw a shadow in her green orbs that gave him an ache in his chest.

"Anythin' I can do?" He asked.

She glanced down at the boy before replying, "Send a bird to tell my mother I won't be home tonight."

**A/N: I'm aware it's short and late coming but I have JUST finished my second week of being a junior in college so you'll have to excuse my busyness. Not to mention this chapter was hard for me, but hopefully this little unforeseen event will help me with the rest of the story! Thanks to everyone who reviewed, please keep 'em comin'! **

**Truly,**

**Joker is Poker with a J~**

**Disclaimer: I only own what you do not recognize. Everything else is the property of their respective owners.**


	5. How to Save a Life

**Following You**

_Where did I go wrong, I lost a friend_  
><em> Somewhere along in the bitterness<em>  
><em> And I would have stayed up with you all night<em>  
><em> Had I known how to save a life<em>

-How to Save a Life by The Fray

"You're going to have to tell him." Naomi told Bea tiredly one morning at home, about a week after Why had been brought to her, as she hurried to make sure she had everything she needed before heading back to Brooklyn.

Bea turned to her, her identical green eyes wide with innocence, "What?"

The dark hair girl turned to shoot her younger sister an exasperated look, "You know what I'm talking about, Bea. If things are still uncertain about Why, Spot will be walking me home and you're going to have to tell him."

"I can't." The blonde girl replied almost immediately, "I'm spending the night at Sophie's. Perhaps this weekend…" She trailed off a look of uncertainty playing across her features, "Will he be mad?"

"Furious." Naomi answered at once, before smiling gently, "But certainly not with you." The troubled look remained and Naomi almost opened her mouth to continue to comfort her sister but her eyes fell on the clock and she squeaked, "I'm running late! I'll see you later." She leaned over to kiss first Bea's cheek and then her mother's, who had sat strangely quiet through the entire conversation.

"Be careful. Send someone if there are any changes to the boy." Her mother told her gently but she only nodded in reply as she hurried out the door.

The moment she was out of the building, her eyes landed on the two people standing not three feet in front of her by a light post, talking animatedly amongst their selves. As she stepped onto the sidewalk, they both glanced up and gave simultaneous smiles, "Good morning, Naomi!" They called, almost too cheerily considering the early hour.

"Good morning, Wicked. Joker." She replied as they fell in step on either side of her. After Beat had brought word about Topper, he'd been even more protective of her than usual. In the mornings she was escorted by Ruckus or the Twins and in the evenings, the ones where he made her go home for a good meal and decent sleep, by the King of Brooklyn himself. "How is he?" she asked, use to getting most of her information from the pair.

Wicked shrugged, "No change as of yesterday but,"

"We stayed in Manhattan last night," Joker added.

Nodding and looking miserable, Wicked continued, "Still has a fever as far as we know,"

Joker mirrored her twin's look, "still coughing…" she added, head falling to stare at her feet as they walked.

Naomi sighed, growing frustrated that it had been a week and still nothing to indicate what was wrong with the poor child. The three lapsed into a comfortable silence as they crossed the Brooklyn Bridge just as the sun was beginning to climb lazily above the horizon. It was cold, not unusual as December reached a midpoint. Christmas wasn't far away but with the strain of Why's condition and the slow news, Naomi didn't see it being too much of a celebration this year.

Awhile later, as they neared the lodging house and as the Brooklyn boys were spilling out onto the street, heading in the direction of the Distribution center, they were met with a tired looking Spot. He nodded to the twins before meeting Naomi's eyes, "Come on." Gently, he took her hand and she felt her stomach dip as a sense of foreboding filled her. Looking closer, she could see his eyes were tight, his shoulders stiff with anxiety and purple bruises beginning below his eyes.

She tossed a look to Wicked and Joker, who were both sporting looks of alarm, before letting Spot's hand go to hurry up the stairs passed him. "Naomi." He called but she ignored him as she threw the door open to find Blue sitting next to Why.

Horror filled her as Why stared off sightlessly. For a moment, she thought the worst until she realized he was talking; mumbling incessantly to be exact. "When did this start?" She demanded as she reached the bed he lay on.

Blue stood up to move out of her way, "Sometime in the night." He told her, watching as she felt Why's forehead, "At first, he was just calmly murmuring and we thought he was getting' bettah...but he was still hot. Then he got agitated. Spot calmed him down. Now he's back ta this…"

Why turned his head away from her and that's when she saw it in the v of his shirt; small, rose-colored spots on his chest. Terror choked her for a second before she turned and met the blue eyes she sought, "Send someone to get my mother."

It took close to two hours for her mother to get the Brooklyn Lodging House. In the meantime Naomi found herself fussing over tiny matters, fretting about little things because she was so concerned. She was scared, plain and simple. Her heart felt heavy, her stomach was rolling because she was thinking terrible thoughts; she was falling apart on the inside.

Except she kept telling herself that she was a nurse, if she started to show how she felt everyone else would start to panic. She couldn't let them know. Moving to the window, she peered down at the crowded sidewalk and almost sighed in relief when she saw the two blondes making their way towards the lodging house.

Wicked brought her mother in with a flourish and Lily Snow took one look at Naomi's face and turned to the small boy. "Typhoid fever." Her mother declared not a minute after checking him over. "Has he been visiting the water closet a lot?"

Blue shook his head, "No. Not really."

Lily met Naomi's eyes across the boy and just in a glance she knew the outcome. Her heart fell and she couldn't keep back the tears so instead of letting everyone see them, she rushed out of the room. Frantically, she went to the bunkroom, threw the window open and quickly climbed up the fire escape to the roof as the biting wind of winter tossed her hair around her face.

Wrapping her arms around her body, she let the tears come along with the sobs and the sniffles. Her body shook from the crying as much as from the cold but she made herself stay put. The fate of the boy down stairs was decided, there was no cure that they knew of for Typhoid fever and now all they could do was wait for him to die. A lump formed in her throat at that thought. She was a nurse, not a doctor and certainly not God. She couldn't save one innocent life, all she could do now was make it easier for the boys whose lives would be affected by Why's death.

Warm, strong arms wrapped around her from behind and she turned so she could bury her face in the crook of his neck. "Shh." He murmured, rubbing her back so to warm her up. Her tears fell harder as Spot comforted her until there were no more and when they dissolved along with the sobs he spoke, "This is life, Princess." The old nickname brought a watery smile to her face and she stepped back to meet his wonderful blue eyes. He brushed her hair out of her face and moved his thumb across her cheek to catch any lingering tears, "It's not always beautiful," He continued, gazing at her steadily but she could see the small traces of sadness in his eyes and along the lines of his mouth, "it sucks most of the time," He added, just the smallest of smiles flickered across his face for that line before he became serious once more, "but just one wonderful memory is worth every other miserable second. Why's not the first young child ta die and he won't be the last. You were put here ta save people, but not everyone."

It wasn't the most eloquent speech by any means but he had tried, stumbling over the word 'die' but in the end it had served to calm her down and come to terms with the fact that no one could save everyone. Not even her mother, who had lost enough patients and her husband to make her weary. But, she kept going. Not for the lows of losing someone but for the highs of saving them.

Naomi circled her arms around Spot's middle and hugged him, "Thank you."

**A/N: So, yeah. This is SUPER late for me but this was hard to write. I have a vague outline for the next chapter so it shouldn't take too long to get out. I hope you all liked it, despite the fact that it's kind of sad. But, it's realistic. So, please leave me a review with your thoughts!**

**Truly,**

**Joker is Poker with a J~**

**Disclaimer: I only own what you do not recognize. Everything else is the property of their respective owners.**


	6. Fall Away

**Following You**

_You fall away from your past  
>But it's following you.<br>You left something undone, it's now your rerun;  
>It's the one you can't erase.<br>You should have made it right, so you wouldn't have to fight  
>To put a smile back on your face.<em>

Fall Away – The Fray

Spot was lounging in a chair near the window the day after Mrs. Snow had told them what ailment was affecting Why. Through half-lidded eyes, he watched Naomi tend to the young boy like she had been every day and even last night, sleeping now and then on one of the spare sick beds. He had tried to argue with her because he didn't want to see her end up sick, but he understood that she needed to try to save him even if it was a hopeless case.

His head turned to the door as it opened and Wicked and Joker peeked in. "Is Sir and Naomi wanting us to bring them lunch?" She asked, as Joker peered at them curiously.

Naomi jumped, "It is lunch already?" Her green eyes were wide and panicked and Spot stood up, alarmed.

"What's the mattah?" He asked, watching her closely as she frantically cleaned her hands on her apron.

"I was supposed to meet Bea and Sophie at Central Park to walk Bea back home. I completely forgot!" She turned wild eyes to Spot's as he took a step towards her and rested gentle hands on her thin shoulders.

"Calm down, Naomi." He told her calmly. She had really been on edge lately and it was in turn putting him on edge. "I'll go get her." He paused, thinking it over before turning his eyes on the twins, "Walk Naomi home when she's done and meet me there, awright?"

"Oh, Spot I think I'll-" Naomi began, pulling away from him and walking back towards the bed to look over Why once more.

He caught her arm, and twirled her around to meet those green eyes and he shook his head emphatically, "No, ya not staying anothah night. Ya gonna go home, get some food in ya and sleep."

Naomi worried her lip, her gaze sliding to the small boy again. For a moment, he was sure she was going to argue with him but she sighed in resignation and nodded. He nodded his own head; glad she hadn't picked a fight. His own nerves were frayed enough over worry for her, Why, the rest of his newsies, Ruckus and Brooklyn in general and he didn't think he could keep his cool. Plus, if fate was going to take this young kid, he didn't want her so overworked that she went with him.

Leaning towards her, he kissed her lightly on the lips before turning to leave. As he got to the door, he met Joker's eyes, "Hey, get some food in her." He reached into his pocket and pulled out what he'd made from selling the day before and handed it to her. She nodded, and took it without question.

Heart heavy with worry, Spot set out for Central Park. It was freezing out, snow swirling between the buildings as people bustled past him. It was a week until Christmas and people were smiling more, letting him keep the change when they bought a paper, and in the larger houses you could see trees twinkling in the windows. It lifted his spirits a bit because although he'd never celebrated Christmas with a real family, he liked the way that in the middle of winter, on the coldest night, you could surround yourself with people you loved and that loved you.

The walk to the park was longer than usual with all of the people scurrying about. He tapped his cane against the pavement as he weaved in and out. Trying not to dwell on the bad things, Queens, Ratchet, Why, and Ruckus' strange absences, he tried to clear his mind completely.

His thoughts wandered back to the last time he felt peaceful, and found himself remembering the evening a few weeks ago when he'd been with Naomi, drinking tea on her couch while they discussed his past. Despite the pain it had been to talk about the mother that had never loved him, it had been a relief to get the weight of his ugly past off of his shoulder. For that peace alone, the peace Naomi had always offered him unconditionally, he longed to give her the entire world in return.

Reaching Central Park, he took an appraising glance around at the snow-covered trees and the pines decorated with garlands and fake icicles. As his eyes scanned the area, they immediately found the bright, green eyes that were so familiar, but rather than accompanied by dark hair it was blonde hair that swirled around her laughing face as she talked to the two people in front of her, their backs to Spot. Pulling his jacket closer, he felt a small smile lifting up the corner of his mouth as he headed towards her, "Bea."

At his greeting, the two strangers turned in unison as Beatrice's face lit up, "Spot!" She pushed between the two and ran to hug him.

He caught her in his arms distractedly as he stared in bewilderment at the two pairs of blue eyes that were trained on him. One was narrowed in scorn; the other looked upon him with a large amount of curiosity.

"Spot, I want you to meet Sophie and Henry Turner. My friends." Bea held onto his arm as her other hand gestured to the last two people he would have expected to encounter.

A bitter laugh jerked up his throat and he didn't have the self-control to contain it. Unfortunately, he found himself speechless as he stared at his half-siblings. It was unfair, really, that his mother had abandoned him because he had his father's eyes when she had also had blue eyes. Blue eyes that both her children to Harry Turner had inherited and could very well have been his own.

He bristled as he turned to Henry, "Me and Henry are acquainted." The smirk of satisfaction on Henry's face made him silently curse him. Spot Conlon had never been called stupid, but not to his educated brother, there was no other way he could feel. He was suddenly self-conscious of his rough accent.

"Henry? You know him?" Inquired the brunette beside him and Spot's gaze swung around to the half-sister he'd never met. Hungrily, he took in the sight of her and was surprised to see that she didn't look all that much like their mother. While Veronica had been tall, willowy, blonde and blue-eyed, Sophie was not. She was petite, her hair the same auburn of her father's, her build a bit more voluptuous than her mother's, although she would only be about thirteen, now.

She also lacked the coldness of her mother, and that immediately gave Spot a kinship to her.

"Never tawked much about me, huh Henry?" Spot asked, turning back to meet his brother's gaze. His brother did resemble their mother, with his white-blonde hair, the sharp, aquiline nose, and the smile that was chilling and fake.

Sophie's eyebrows puckered as she glanced between the two, "Henry?"

Bea, too, was bewildered by the cold meeting of the two young men as Henry ignored Spot's question and spoke to Sophie without breaking eye contact with Spot, "Come along, Soph. Mother will expect us to be back soon. Say goodbye to Bea."

Confusion mirrored the two girl's gazes as they said good bye, but a rebelliousness that Spot could respect entered Sophie's gaze as she added, "We will make plans to see each other soon."

Spot and Bea silently watched them leave but only he could see the irony of the situation. Just when he'd found a family to call his own, he came into contact once again with the family who had disowned him.

When they had disappeared from sight, Spot's gaze swept around the park until he finally faced Bea's questioning gaze, "Spot? What was that about?"

He debated on lying to her to her for a moment before he realized that he'd tell her the truth no matter what. Because, despite the fact that they weren't blood, she was his family and he knew that family's worked best when they respected and trusted one another. "That…was two half-brother's meeting for the first time in quite a few years."

Her eyes widened as they began their trek out of Central Park, pausing to watch a few people ice skating on one of the frozen lakes at one of the entrances of the park. "Y-you're related to Sophie and Henry?"

Tossing an arm around her thin shoulders, he squeezed her lightly, "Yes and I don't think that Henry'll let tha two of ya hang out now that he knows you are acquainted with me."

The determined set of her jaw reminded him of Naomi when she got a sick patient and he smiled as Bea told him, "Sophie won't let her brother bully her without a good reason. We'll still hang out."

He only grinned in response.

**A/N: So, I love this story and I've been waiting for inspiration and whattya know? It hit me. Anywho, here is this chapter for all of you waiting readers! Thanks for sticking with Naomi and Spot and I know sequels aren't always the best but I hope you all will like this one just as much as the first! Please drop me a review!**

**Truly,**

**Joker is Poker with a J~**

**Disclaimer: I only own what you do not recognize. Everything else is the property of their respective owners.**


	7. Not Broken

**Following You**

"_Morning comes, and life moves on  
>And when it changed, you didn't know you belonged.<br>And I'll still catch you when you fall through a past that steals your sleep  
>And scroll these words upon your wall to remind you to believe."<em>

_-_Not Broken by Goo Goo Dolls

Why passed late in the morning on a wintry Saturday four days before Christmas. Naomi and Blue had each been holding one of his hands but they reacted very differently to the death of the young boy. Naomi bit back a sob while she slowly covered his him in a white sheet; wishing more than anything that Spot was there. Unfortunately, the calm leader of Brooklyn was out hawking headlines with the rest of the newsies and she felt selfish for wanting him while he needed to work to survive.

Blue moved away from the body as soon as Why dispelled his last breath. She caught a brief glimpse of the tears falling as he ducked his head and moved to the opposite end of the room. They'd spent nearly every day together watching over the boy and yet, in that time, they had rarely spoken. Now, she watched as the sorrow engulfed the young man before her and she felt an ache in her chest for him.

"Blue, I'm so sorry." She knew all too well how inadequate those words were, understood how you could eventually come to resent the statement as person after person spoke them to you.

She watched the back of his head moved in a nod as he remained silent. Slowly, she approached him and rested a small hand on his shoulder, "It will be alright."

It was silent for a moment before he turned around and she dropped her hand, his brown eyes blazing, "How, Naomi?" His hissed comment startled her and she took a step back just as he took one forward, "Did you know Why?" He continued, his voice steadily rising without letting her answer the first question, "I was ten when he showed up here, lost and alone. Three years old, Naomi. _THREE!_" Angrily, Blue ran a hand through his hair, worked up now just thinking of everything, "His fathah had ran aftah beating his ma ta death! He saw the entire THING, Naomi! Witnessed murder at _fucking three years old!_ But he came here and moved on with his life. He was happy and whole and…" suddenly, Blue took a deep breath and sat heavily in the closest seat, anger spent with a blink of an eye as he whispered, "he's gone now."

Tears were flowing freely down her cheeks and she felt sympathy pool in her heart as she imagined losing Bea. Why had been Blue's little brother, blood or not, and he had needed Why as much as Why had needed him.

"Blue, he's not gone."

He glared at her, as if she were mocking his pain, "He's dead, Naomi."

Hesitantly, she stepped forward and brushed back a piece of his dark hair, "I know. But, as long as you love him and remember him, he'll never truly be gone. Everyone you love that dies, lives on by the piece of them you hold in your heart."

Blue didn't argue with her and he fell silent as he turned to look out the window. Realizing he needed time to grieve, she moved over to the small desk to pull out a death certificate. A lump rose in her throat just thinking about it, but it was a necessary evil to her job and she felt it was best to get it over and out of the way.

Footsteps on the stairs several minutes later had her glancing up from the desk just as the sickroom door flew open to reveal a rather angry Spot Conlon. Her quick glance at the clock on the desk told her that it was near noon and that most of the boys would be back from the morning edition.

"Blue." He said, as Ruckus followed behind him, "Were ya raisin' ya voice ta Naomi?" It was said calmly, but she could see the cold anger in his entire demeanor.

Before Blue could talk, she stood up, crossed the room and stepped in front of him protectively, "Spot," She began, ignoring the way he tensed up at the sight of tears on her face, "Why succumbed to Typhoid fever fifteen minutes ago."

That froze Spot in his tracks. His eyes turned to take in the sheet covered body, the grief stricken look on Blue's face and her tears once more. He closed his eyes and when he opened them again, she saw the sadness there-but she also saw the relief. Furrowing her eyebrows in confusion, she filed that away as he moved over to the bed, took off his cap, kneeled down and said a prayer so soft to the still boy that not even in the stillness could they hear what it was. Blue watched him with an odd expression as Ruckus waited patiently for Spot.

When he rose he stood still over the child for a second before turning to Blue and shaking his hand. Ruckus removed his own newsboy cap and took Spot's place next to Why as he murmured his own prayers. Their respect and grief over the loss of one of their lodging house brothers brought fresh tears to her eyes.

She figured Spot would go past her without a word, but he surprised her again as he pulled her into a hug and laid a chaste kiss on her forehead. Naomi savored the affection that he rarely displayed before others and gave him a small, watery smile. He brushed a tear from her cheek, his expression unreadable, before he moved out of the sick room.

Ruckus, his perpetual shadow, followed him out of the room and she waited to see what would happen next. There was a swift, loud rap of his cane in the bunk room and then the muffled intonation of his voice as he made an announcement. Blue stood beside her and peered along the hall as they heard the loud sound of quite a few pairs of feet moving around.

Blue and her watched in wonderment as the Brooklyn boys filed out of the bunkroom in a single line, heading down the hall to the small sickroom. Spot and Ruckus stood on either side of the hall as they one by one took turns paying respect to Why. Afterwards, each boy would shake Blue's hand, everyone knowing of the kinship between him and the young child.

Even more astonishing, at least to Naomi, was that after they shook Blue's hand, they stopped to give her a hug and thank her for all she had done to make Why's passing as easy as possible. Never had she felt more a part of this misfit family.

As the line came to an end, Naomi caught sight of the twins. She watched as they approached the bed together, removed their top hats and kneeled down on one knee in perfect sync. It was actually quite a sight to behold. Low murmurs from the two girls filled the room as Spot and Ruckus once more stepped inside to watch.

When they were finished, they stood up and replaced their hats as they turned to Blue. They took turns hugging him and whispering apologies for his loss before they turned to Naomi. The blonde and the brunette each took one of Naomi's hands and squeezed them lightly, "Thank you, Naomi." Wicked began.

"We couldn't have a better nurse." Joker added.

Naomi gave them a crooked smile, "Sure ya could. A nurse that doesn't lose patients."

They shook their heads in unison, "No such thing." Was their simultaneous reply.

Despite the circumstances, Naomi felt a smile. She had always been accepted here because of how her family had taken in Spot, but it wasn't till the boys had thanked and comforted her that she had felt truly welcomed and accepted among their ranks.

**A/N: Let me know what you think. Does it feel like this story is going anywhere? I have plans for it, but it seems to be taking forever to get there. Review?**

**On another note, Shotrock is holding a Summer fanfic contest. Jut google New York Newsies Awards and it should be the first link. Go nominate your favorite stories! Nominations are until July 15th and voting begins shortly after that!  
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**Truly,**

**Joker is Poker with a J~  
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**Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize.  
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